Australian Musician, Autumn 2000, by Greg Philips.
Singing, songwriting and performing is what Neil Murray knows best. The obligatory interview process that record companies require an artsit to undergo prior to an album release doesn't seem to sit as comfortably with Neil. Who could blame him for being just a tad cynical anyway. Album after quality album he has received critical praise and has won national recognition with awards for his songwriting prowess, yet when it's all said and done, the unit sales are never quite strong enough to give him the freedom to live and record in the manner he deserves... without financial constraints. But you get the feeling that as long as he's in a position to be able to record albums and touch a few people along the way, then that's all that matters.
Murray's latest album, "The Wondering Kind" features the warmth and character of an old friend. The topics are familiar and the sound and lyrics are things you could spend a lot of time with. The instrumentation is never intrusive yet courtesy of some wonderful players Neil has featured on the album like Stephen Teakle and Midnight Oil's Jim Moginie, there's always something interesting happening. "I pretty much wanted to keep the lyric paramount," said Murray. "At one stage I almost conceived the album as a spoken word album with music. I've always tried to work to the dictum that less is more and should be just enough embellishment to the instrumentation to carry the emotion of the lyric. I like to be able to hear the words. I guess the influence there is hearing the vocal delivery of people like Leonard Cohen and Bob Dylan and Tom Waits and how absolutely rivetting it can be, just to hear that vocal rather than have it covered up with heaps of instrumentation."
For Murray the songs on the new album came to him in many ways, some as riffs, others out of travel experiences and one from an off the cuff remark that a friend had made. I wondered how much of the instrumentation of the recorded song Murray heard in his head as he wrote the new tunes.
"Certain songs, you can almost hear the other instruments immediately. We'll No Return for instance, as soon as I wrote that I definitely wanted pipes and strings and could hear the whole thing. Other stuff grows up out of recording, we try things out. Good Light In Broome came out of a remark a friend made while I was in Broome and I saw that it was true. It evoked a whole idea and created this tag line. Before I had the music, I knew what kind of style it would be and started to write out story ideas for verses that would fit. Other songs are riff driven. I'll be working on a riff and I'll just sing anything or hum to myself and it suggests a melody which suggests a mood which then suggests a lyric."
The recording process this time was less dogmatic for Neil, allowing more creative input from his fellow musicians. "With Jim I leave it to his own devices because I trust him implicitly. He'll have a listen and say 'let's try this'. With Bill Heckenberg (drummer) who I have played with for some time, he'll usually come up with something appropriate too as far as the drum feel goes."
By allowing the other players to contribute more, Neil found that he was not only learning things but also the recording process became much easier.
"I'm amazed at Jim when he comes in with his array of pedals. What we did is that we'd have most of the track happening, and he gets a sound himself that works within that track. So there's nothing to put on at mixing stage. He'll put all his own delays on and get a sound that works for that track. That's the way to go rather than say we'll put something in at mix stage. So I learned a lot from him."
Murray is brutally honest about his own ability as a musician, he believes he can string a few chords together and doesn't mind a jam but in his own words "that doesn't automatically mean you're a musician." In elaborating Neil says "I know what works for me and know what my limitations are. I don't know if I'm getting better but I'm getting better at knowing what I can make work. I reckon I can put a reasonable signature on most tunes but I'm no virtuoso."
Neil may not be a "gear-head" but he's certainly fond of his custom made Maton acoustic. He requested that the guitar be built entirely with Australian timbers, not even a spruce top.
"They've used King Billy Pine and as a result it's quite delicate and unfortunately I've dropped it and dented it a few times."
He's also got his old Gibson Firebird, "it's a bugger of a thing to get set up but I like the sound and feel. It's thick and deep," he says of his "plank".